Rubber Ducks on Skates
by bubble-rouge08
Summary: SMACKERS! Who took Mac to the roller derby? Who did he take to the roller derby?


_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Anything you can recognize, not mine. The sports center is for real though. It's in Brooklyn. The rubber ducks in this story is inspired by my little niece who just loves those cute plastic toys in her bath._

_Enjoy my little story Jamalot-inspired fic. Though I didn't provide an answer as to whom Mac was with the first time he watched a roller derby, I provided Smackers a second date. Please R&R and THANKS A LOT!_

**Rubber Ducks on Skates **

**© Toni**

_There was no girlfriend._

He insisted that his trip to the roller derby wasn't a date. After all, who would consider a trip to a roller derby a 'date'? Mac can do better than that. Yeah, Stella – he took you to a dog show once. But hang on, that wasn't a date. It was a treat… and you made him pay up because he lost in your bet. You never went out on a date with Mac; he's your boss, your friend.

And yet, his smile said otherwise when you asked him which was fun… the game or the date. So it was a date. Dang, with whom? With that 'Rose' woman you questioned and he sort of saved in a case last year? Well, she's pretty – blonde, motherly, smart – his type. But she's not the roller derby type of woman. Hell, for all I know she could've taken him to a bake fair or some flea market of some sort.

Wait a sec, Stella… why are you even asking these questions? You're not jealous, are you? The lack of information after his supposed date with her drove you mad after all. It wasn't like Mac to withhold such info from you; you were open (slightly) with him when it came to _your_ personal relationships. He went to cry on your shoulder when Claire died. He stayed at your place for a week after her funeral. And he kept you safe during all your vulnerable moments. And a simple date, he wouldn't spill? That kept you awake at night, did it, Bonasera?

You knew Mac since he and Claire moved to New York. They were your next-door neighbors in your old apartment complex. He still lives there now… alone… not even a pet to accompany him. In fact, you rarely see him out of the lab. It's the lab, a crime scene, Sullivan's, _that secret place he hangs out in,_ or cooped up in his office. Sometimes a colleague would invite the team over at their place for a drink or dinner but Mac only came with you guys a handful of times… or if you're the one who invited. The 'old' Mac never came back after he promised, "Just give me some time. I'm sure I'll get through this." Yeah, right.

_There was no girlfriend._

Then who took him? Danny? Sheldon? Donny? _Sid?_ Or maybe it's Jane. They've been very chummy lately. Plus, Mac listens to her, talks to her. Bonasera, stop it before you pull your hair straight. Enough with these theories about who went out with whom. Especially, who went out with Mac. Concentrate on the evidence you're processing. Listen to the song on the iPod ('Hopelessly Devoted to You' – not really a good choice considering the things swimming in your head right now). _Answer your phone._

"Bonasera," you answer out of impulse.

"Since when do you answer my call like that, Stell?" _his_ voice says over the earpiece. "Your phone have been ringing a full minute and I have called you two times before you finally answered." Find your voice, Stella. Say something. "Are you alright? You seem a little out of breath."

Finally! "No, I'm good. Just a little distracted from the iPod. Hawkes let me borrow his. So what's up? Any leads?"

"Turn around," Mac says. And like an obedient cat, you do. "Hi there." For a rare moment there, he was smiling and he _waved_.

"Hi," you wave back. Both of you click off and he enters the layout room. "What's with the light mood?" The particular case you both are working on is pretty heavy… a ten-year-old boy found in a dark alley being feasted on by cat-sized rats, brutally beaten and sodomized. Seeing Mac smiling like this – on a case like this – is uncommon.

Pulling on a lab coat, Mac sits down beside you. "Flack caught the guy who did this to little Todd. Guilty conscience got the best of him; he confessed an hour ago. We have more than enough evidence against him." He's still smiling. "Now, you've been so engrossed in this case that you forgot something."

You? Forget something? "Uh… I guess, I have been occupied. What did I miss?" Yeah, you have been busy thinking about something… or _someone_. And that someone is sitting right in front of you.

"Think harder, Stella. Dig deeper," he says. "What day is it today?"

"A Friday," you say, not really in the mood to play guessing games. The iPod in your ear is now playing 'My Funny Valentine' (Gee, Sheldon has good taste in music). "It's not Valentine's Day, is it?" He shakes his head no. "And certainly it's not the 4th of July because I'm working." You reserved ALL your 4th of July days your entire career for your official 'bum out' day. "Spill."

"Come on, Stell," he says smiling, "you can do better than that." You raise your eyebrow and pout. "Tell you what, why don't you head on home, worry about paperwork tomorrow. I'll clean this up for you. And in about two hours, let's meet up at this address," he says handing you a piece of folded paper. You don't look at it right away.

"Alright then, Mac. If you say so," you exit the layout room and pack up your things in your locker.

Stella Bonasera. Hey, it's just a night out with Mac. It's not like this is your first time out with him. In fact, this was your routine not long ago. Once a week, every week. So why are you having trouble deciding on what to wear? _This. Is. Not. A. Date. _Tell yourself that because it isn't. You haven't even looked at the paper yet and here you are throwing your closet apart.

Maybe reading the address of your rendezvous can calm you down… or not. Oh no, this can't be the right place. Maybe Mac gave you the wrong address. Here? Tonight?

"What are you up to, Mac?" you say to yourself right after you read the note. _Dress casually,_ it said on the bottom part of the note. This address can't be the right place… no way.

**The Schwartz Athletic Center**

You pick out your favorite pair of jeans and a dark green tank top with a yellow rubber duckie decal on the front. Flack gave you that for Christmas after you told the team that's something you still have in your tub over Truth or Dare. You thought it was cute of Donnie, Jr. Of course, Mac laughed like crazy when you answered the door not long ago wearing that. So you know he'll like your get-up.

You put some fragrance and a bit of make-up on yourself and head out the door. It'll be a long drive to that place he picked for this da… uh, _treat._ As Danny likes to say, "Traffic if murder." Tonight is not an exception.

Mac's already there when you arrive. And for the most unusual of days, he's wearing faded jeans and a white t-shirt under his NYPD jacket. Yeah, that's Mac… there's a piece of work everywhere he goes. He sees you and almost bites back a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, Taylor," you snap at him giving him your stare. His shoulders are shaking violently and he gives out a loud guffaw. "So why here of all places?"

He stops laughing finally when you start to blush. Maybe wearing the duck shirt isn't a good idea. Bleah, what the heck. He's seen you in worse. One day he'll get that this is one of your favorite shirts. And besides, it's nice to see Mac laughing again. Catching his breath, he manages to point to the sign above the stadium gates.

Bronx Babes Roller Derby 

A look of disbelief spread on your face. "Mac, are you frickin' serious?" He nods and hands you a ticket. He takes your hand and starts to guide you to the gates. Your feet carry you to where he's leading, and it's starting to get cold. The only warmth you're feeling is his hand on yours… then it moves to the small of your back as he leads you to your seats.

"Stella, are you okay?" he shakes you out of your trance. "Hey, if you don't like it here, we can go some place else. I got these tickets for free anyway." He's still holding your hand, his face too close, almost touching your curly hair.

Your neck muscles finally work and you meet his gaze. He seemed really concerned. Yeah, Bonasera – you would too when someone clams up just like that over a roller derby invitation. Your voice works a few moments later, "Yeah, Mac. I'm fine. Just a bit… uh… shocked. I mean, a roller derby?"

"Oh come on, Stell," he reasons, handing you a flag. "It's not like you haven't been in one before."

"Haha, I have. But during that time, it was a crime scene. Not a real game."

"I rest my case," he smirked. "Besides, I know you're familiar with the team we're here for," he said pointing on the flag he just gave you. _Manhattan Minx._

"Oh yeah, how'd you know that I won't be cheering for the Bronx Babes?" you tease, batting your eyelashes. Wait a minute Stella; you're _not_ flirting with Mac, are you? He didn't have time to reply because the game was about to start.

Flashes of red and white zoom on the rink as the Manhattan Minx appear one by one. Almost all of them are familiar… with a new face, probably to replace 'She Hate Me'. You always thought there's something grammatically wrong with that name but hey, who cares? Leave the Stella the Scientist for a while; have fun. You smile at Mac when one of the girls (Lindsey refers to her as _Mac's girlfriend_, right?) winks at him and he blushes.

Then the Bronx Babes fill the other end of the rink. The crowd goes crazy as both teams start the jam. And boy, who knew watching girls on roller skates, trying to bring each other down is so much fun? "Mac does," you say to yourself sneaking a glance at him and smiling because he's genuinely having fun, screaming himself hoarse as the Minx score once more. You avert your attention back to the jam and like him, scream and yell your support for the Minx.

In the end, your bet won – the new girl "Roller Betty" proving to be as popular as her predecessor. It was early that night (for both of you anyway), and you decide to have dinner. Mac was babbling how great the game was as if you weren't beside him, losing your mind. He even bought you those red headbands with cat ears on them and M-I-N-X at the middle in big white letters. "Looks good on you," he said pausing to take a picture on his phone. You were too tired to chase him around the block for that. Yeah, and he thought the duck shirt was bad.

"Just don't let the whole lab see that picture, Mac or you're dead," you laugh along with him. "I'm a pretty good CSI and I know too well how to commit a perfect crime." He picked the ever-delectable McDonald's to get food. "And by the way, it's nice to finally meet your _girlfriend._ Lindsey and Flack have told me a lot about her."

"Hey, easy there partner," Mac said surrendering. Partner. It's been a while since he called you that. "Okay, tell you what – if you tell me what day it is today, we'll forget all about the picture. Deal?"

"Mac, I _told _you. It's Friday. What with today anyway?" you're getting frustrated. "Deal or no deal, Mac – we're forgetting that horrid picture."

He pouts. _Mac Taylor actually pouts._ "Oh I'm sure Danny and Sheldon wouldn't let it die when they 'accidentally' see this in the mug shot database. Not to mention, Flack would probably put this on his PC wallpaper."

"Oh it will be a mug shot after I'm through with you, Taylor," you laugh flicking a French fry at him. "Come on, spill. What's with today?"

He puts a medium-sized pink box on the table between the both of you. "You're working way to hard, Stella Bonasera."

"Look who's talking," you chuckle. Then it dawns on you. "Oh crap, I forgot! I can't believe I forgot!"

"Happy birthday, Stella," he says softly with a wide smile.

With shaking hands, you untie the big bow on the box and inside are eight different colored rubber duckies. "Mac, what's this?"

There is a note under each of the ducks. You pick up the pink one, from Lindsey: _Thanks for the warm welcome. And thanks for fending Danny off sometimes. Happy birthday._ And speaking of Danny, _Hey how are you doing? Happy birthday! Stella, you don't look your age. Stay beautiful._ Ever the flirt, Danny Messer. He picked the green duck. I know Flack beat him to the blue. He picked the one as blue as his eyes. The other ducks are from Sheldon, Jane, Adam, Sid and the red one is from Mac.

"So why did you pick red," you ask before reading his note. You turn the duck over and it simply read: _Thanks for going out with me._ "That's all, Mac? Lost for words?"

He was silent, looking at you with familiar eyes. You've seem that look before… it's the same look you see him give his late wife. "Stella, I…" he starts taking your hand in his. "I was thinking about this for a long time." He sighed again and his thumb drew circles on your palm. "After the towers fell… I realized how short our time here on earth is. That day, I didn't have the chance to tell Claire I love her. It was all a blur to me and it was too late when I saw it. Anything can happen in a blink of an eye – too many lost moments. Stella, I…"

You knew what he was going to say. The tears threatening to spill from his eyes were enough to tell you what it is. You took that moment. The place was nearly empty; with the Ronald McDonald mascot as your only witness, you two shared a long-awaited kiss.

**07.08.2006**


End file.
